


Grim Partners

by Meta_Ren



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meta_Ren/pseuds/Meta_Ren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lonely reaper he was. He didn't like to admit it thought. One day he is unsure where to send his next client, Heaven or Hell. Purgatory is the only place he could think of.<br/>His client, Stewart, is kind and loving, unlike himself. Why is Stewart here? Why was he not sent to heaven? Why is he so interested in the reaper, Murdoc? Feeling bad for the innocent human, Murdoc stops to visit for a while, everyday, learning more and more about the interesting person.<br/>Time passes, and Stewart is still in purgatory, to deaths surprise, opening his heart to the man. Is that a good idea? What will it lead to?<br/>Slow build-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trapped in Purgatory

Hell is a place all humans fear, it is drilled into their heads as soon as they can comprehend language. Christians, Buddhist, and even atheist feel trepidation towards their ultimate demise. We are all born, we all live, and eventually, die. Over the years, we have not realized that we are all identical in the eyes of the so called ‘reaper.’ Who is the reaper you ask? He is the one who comes to escort you to your crowning destination, heaven or hell. Each individual he guides, lays eyes on the supernatural creature, who never communicates with his clients. 

No one troubles themselves to strike up a conversation with the mysterious character. They are too caught up in their journeys end, and it has been so for many centuries, since the beginning of time, and the probability of this changing is very unlikely.

 

***

 

Date: Friday. 8:16 a.m. October 25th.  
Cause of death: Reckless driving.  
Client: Stewart Pot  
Destination: -

‘I knew that those assholes were gonna screw up the paper soon, I don’t know why I even try.’ This isn’t the first time this has happened, there have been many instances when they forgot to fill in the destination part, but it wouldn’t be on such short notice, like today. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do…I guess I could just bring him to the gates and ask…but then again, they don’t like me there…ah shit. Any minute now…fuck you guys.”  
The reaper stands in the opposite side of the road, his dark bangs covering his forehead. He taps his longs fingers against his scythe as he waits impatiently for his client, as some would put it. 

Today was an average day. Expecting the impending doom of the individuals, well, doom would be a bad way to put it, it was more like…the end, or a new beginning for some. It all depended on how the person acted towards others that determined their fate, the golden rule as most would put it.

Religion didn’t play a factor in it. There were many devoted Christians that went to Hell, and many atheist who went to heaven. Christians were some of the most annoying ones, they always had to do a big act, crying usually, where the Muslims or Atheists just did as they were told, which was the way he wished it would be every time. 

Children were the worst. They would not only cry, they would kick, scream, and even fight with him when he tried to escort, it was hard to keep his cool. Talking about the children made him uncomfortable, even if it was just to himself. Children always went to Heaven, they never marinated in the sin of earth like some of the lowly bottom feeders that he takes to Hell have.

***

“What the fuck. He was supposed to die one minute ago…” His words drift as he hears a vehicle in the near distance, approaching the round corner of the jagged road. The car, at full speed, hits the canyon rocks just as he predicted. The breaks could be heard, but they were useless to the incredible pace. 

The crash was a good one the reaper would have to say, a beautiful sound. Fragments of the humanly object could be seen going in different directions, from the bumper, to the back tire. The faint smell of gasoline and exhaust fumes could have been smelled miles away, its pungent odor made him sour his face. It was all going according to the strategically thought out plan. One last thing.

 

The scream.

 

Everyone made some type of noise before they died, and no scream or moan was the same. Car crashes were bad, but rape and murder were worse. Each sound had some type of impact on him, it was lasting as he would like to put it. It reminded him that this job was more than just, ‘take them to the given destination’ it made them seem more as individuals, expressing their disconcert in a distressful, vocal way. Chinese, English, or Belarusian. It didn’t make a rat’s ass on what language they spoke, he could understand.

“Time for the most ‘wonderful’ part of the job…” The man sighs as he walks toward the wreckage of what’s left of the vehicle. Walking closer, there laid a disfigured body, arms outstretched at the front of the wheel. His head was covered by the delayed airbag, which was covered in broken pieces of glass. His blue hair had hints of crimson red running from certain areas. 

“Not too bad guys. Definitely seen worse, but I would give it…aaaa four outta ten. Kudos to you big ol’ Satannnn!” The reaper laughs to himself.  
As his laughing subsides, he grabs the body by the neck in a violent manner and pulls the corpse out. Chanting a few words and swinging his scythe like a lunatic, dark stairs appeared in the rock that the now dead man had crashed into. He slowly strolls down the steps, dragging the lifeless body with him. 

 

***

 

‘Wut was I doin’? Why does my ‘ead ‘urt really bad…and my back. I fink I was drivin’ somewhere… was it…work! That’s right, work…What is my name again? It don’t matta. I’m cold. If I ain’t at work, or drivin’…where am I?’

Thoughts race through his mind as his corpse is dragged down the steps, his back hitting each one with a loud, painful thud. 

‘I ‘ope everyone I know is okay…I wish I knew w’ere I was. Maybe I’m sleepin’, and it’s one of those realistic dreams or somefin’. Or maybe I’m dead. I ‘ope not, someone’s gotta do the paperwork at the company…I fink I’ll sleep.’

***

Where was the reaper going, you ask? Well, he didn’t know himself. The only thing he could think to do in a situation like this was purgatory. Purgatory is the in-between of Heaven and Hell, not many people there. The big cheeses make the big choice fairly quickly, and if they were sent to purgatory, they were not there for long. Most of them went to Hell, no surprise. 

 

Purgatory wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t pleasant either. It was dark, and the only other color illuminating the room was a blood red, reminding death of Hell. Rocks lined the room from bottom to top, producing a musty smell that made him want to gag, People who were sent here received a ring to sit in, and if you are to move from your given ring, you are automatically sent straight to Hell, kind of harsh really. The rings were about ten feet in diameter, so it did give the people some room to move about, but it was kind of ridiculous considering the room was never ending. 

“I really don’t know what the fuck else to do with this…thing.” The reaper drops the body on the ground and pulls a folded paper from his jacket pocket, making sure it was the last thing to do for today. 

“Well…I guess this is all for today. Enjoy your stay…uhh…Stuuuuwart.” With that said, the dark man begins walking out of the area, ready to go to his resting place. His long, silk black cloak dragging on the dirt ground was caught on something. Grunting in annoyance, he extends his arm to pull the cloth free, but to no avail. Finally giving up, he pushes back his dark hood, revealing his rough face. He crouches down to find the source, and was taken back by his find. 

The human was grabbing his cloak. His…filthy, dirty, vile hand. Touching his pure black, spotless robe. He gagged at the mere thought. He was supposed to be…lamented! Dead. Or maybe paralyzed in fear. Why in all that was holy was he lifting his head off the ground. What was he going to do? Panic thoughts suffocated his mind as he looked in silence at the moving being. He felt goosebumps as he opened his small mouth to speak. Never in his years as a reaper had a human spoke, other than to throw an insult his way. They cried. They screamed. It was illusory for a human to do anything other. 

 

“W’ere am I…I-I who are yew sir? Could yew grab meh a coat please?”

 

Lasting words. 

 

 

The reaper didn’t know what to say. He was never trained for this. They told him the probability of it happening is as slim as Hitler ever getting out of Hell. Does he just ignore the man? Or could he befriend him? Did he send him to Hell? It was awfully confusing.

Lost in the notion, he doesn’t respond to the human, much less notice what he was doing.

“Please sir…I-I’m scared…I-I…am I in Hell…?” Tears ran down his chin as he choked out the words. 

‘Oh God. Please don’t tell me he is one of those annoying Christians…Fuck me.’

The dark man straightens his face and looks at the other with a stern look, ready to discuss business.

“You are in purgatory. Between the two. You will leave as soon as your trial is decided. Don’t walk out of the circle, or you will be sent to Hell. Enjoy your stay, and don’t bother praying, it doesn’t do no good here, luv.”

Wow. His first words to a mortal human. He squeals to himself as he notices that he added ‘luv’ at the end unknowingly. It was a small thing he picked up on one day on Britain t.v., waiting on an elderly man to die. Such positivity. 

The blue haired man sniffles a few times before formulation a response.

“I…will I live…Will I be eva be able ta see my family a-again?” How pitiful of a human could this be? He made his him want to kill himself with his negative output. 

“I don’t know, and I honestly don’t give a shit. Anything else…Stewart was it?” His words stifle the young man, making him feel all the more unwanted. 

“Yes…Stewart is my name…but my friends c-called me 2D…What is your n-name?” 

 

Why the Hell not.

 

“Wellll, I go by many things really. Death, The Reaper, The GRIM Reaper, ohhh, the Egyptians called the older one, Osiris, haha! I could go on, really I could, but 2D, just call me Murdoc. Murdoc Niccals.”


	2. Bonnie and Clyde

It was lonely in purgatory. The occasional breeze that would make its way to 2D’s confined settlement was the only think reminding him that he was alive…well beside the reapers oddly timed visits that is.

Murdoc was his name. He was mysterious, always covered in the dark shawl of his robe. The only body part that was even remotely visible was his rough, long hands. Not having much to do in his ‘circle of pity’ as the reaper put it, was to imagine things. Colorful images would take over his mind as he would build up scenarios that would likely never happen. His events would be current, for there was no reason to think of Earth anymore, he was on his own. His family is most likely grieving over a lifeless shell that was once his body. His parents would be in debt because of funeral costs. They would be emotionally impacted by the loss of their son. 

It was his fault. And he couldn’t do anything about it. 

***

Laying in the circle of pity, 2D could hear the loud clanking of what he hoped, and assumed were boots. The sound was tremendously wonderful, because it meant he was here. He wasn't alone anymore. Death was here.

The sound grows closer, bringing with it the soft scent of a musty old house. Oh how he loved it. 

“What’s my favorite little luv doing today in his circle, huh? Oh~ I hope you weren’t thinking about me~ Ha-ha!” The man’s obnoxious laughter drowns out the sick feeling, replacing it with a newfound happiness that 2D could only feel once a day, for less than ten minutes. And by God, he cherished it.

“Hey Murdoc! I-I…Hello! I-I…could yew tell me a story again…p-please…”

It was the same request as every day. Murdoc was a great story teller, and 2D loved to hear the man talk. It not only gave him something to think about for the next 24 hours, it seemed like the reaper enjoyed it. He spoke as if he were eager to get the information out, his hands always motioned as he spoke, making the blue-haired man smile.

“As I guessed, I just knew you wanted to hear me talk more shit. Well…why the fuck not? Here is a good one that I’ve been saving…sit your ass down and open your ears luv, I got a story to tell.” 2D anxiously sits on the outskirts of his circle, watching as the reaper sets his scythe down and mimics his actions. The reaper shifts as he tries to get comfortable.

“One day, many years ago…waitttt- you know the story of Bonnie and Clyde, right dumbass?” 2D shakes his head, in which Murdoc grumbles in dissatisfaction. 2D couldn’t see it, but he felt Murdoc’s eyes stare him down in judgement.

“Where the bloody hell have you been! You must be stupider than I thought…okay. Listen very carefully then. So there once was a girl, or you could say, young woman, ughhehe, named Bonnie…”

2D listened intently as the dark man shared his story. Every sentence that was dictated was detailed and made him feel as if he was part of the historical event. The way death organically moved his hands as he spoke, expressed the emotion of the subject.

As he continued, 2D couldn’t help but feel Murdoc had stayed longer than his usual 10 minutes, but he didn’t want to speak up. He wanted him to stay. He wanted him to comfort him. He was desperate for interaction, with anything or anyone.

“Arriving in the sodding, cesspool of Louisiana, the couple ran into the thick woods. They didn’t know it, but I was there watching their every little move, they were like panicking wolves or something another. It was a tragic ending for the love birds, the police gottem. Shot dead. I was disappointed with the outcome of their…demise, I really was you know. Ohhhh, poor Bonnie, such a lovely bird. The crimson red didn’t fit well with her dress.”

“I just…wish there coulda been a better end, and I rarely say such. It’s kinda obvious they are in Satan’s humble abode, but if I could turn back time…I would want them to…” His sentence drifts as he contemplates his next words. 2D wanted to finish the statement.

“Dew yew want them ta be ‘appy, Mur’doc? I wish everyone could, even in death.” 2D forces a smile as he looks at the reaper, who snapped out of his trance as he heard the words. 

“Oh…I guess that’s a…frank way to put it…but yeah…I wish they could…ugh, this is getting a little…I gotta go.” Murdoc averts his eyes from 2D and frantically picks up his scythe. 2D could feel the walls closing in on him again. It was hurting already.

“Murdoc…don’t leave me. I’m-m…it gets scary w-when yew leave…the red on the rocks ‘urts my eyes…p-please…I-I want ta die w-when I’m alone…” He told himself to not cry, but that was already a doozy. 

It would be rude to ignore 2D, since he was right in front of him, but he could also walk away, this wasn’t his problem, hell he didn’t have to even visit the man if he didn’t want to, but there was something about him that made Murdoc want to just be present.

“I…what am …could I do anything to not make you cry like a baby?” He somewhat regretted his words, but felt it was worth it when 2D began to sniffle less.

“I have things to do, I already overstayed, soooo make it quick you...dullard…” The insult was not intended, he had just grown use to using it, but he hoped that it would not further crack 2D’s emotions.

“C-could yew…eva mind. Yew wouldn’t. Yew don’t care about me. Plus, yew need ta dew your job…I’m holdin’ yew back…” 

What he just said was the biggest piece of bullshit Murdoc has heard in a while. He took time out of his miserable day to sit on the dirt and tell stories to someone who will most likely be in heaven in a few days, and completely forget about him. 

“Shut the fuck up Stewart, your continuous whining and bullshit want to make me kill myself, and I’m the one who kills other people! Tell me what you want, or I’ll make your life in purgatory more hellish!”

“I-I wan-nted y-yew t-ta stay w-wif me until i-I feel asleep-p…I’m j-just so scared…I’m l-lonely…”

His words became softer, and his crying eventually took over his speech, making the reaper want to cut his ears off. 

“Stop crying! Shut up and get comfortable, luv. And move over a tad-yeah, right there!” Murdoc steps over the stones lining the circle of pity, and sits cross-legged in front of the depressing blue-haired boy. It was fitting, a pitiful man, in a pitiful circle. 

“Do whatever you do, and I’ll leave when you tell me to, or whenever I feel it is fit. Sleep.” Murdoc’s straight forward, assistant attitude made Steward more uncomfortable. The reaper didn’t even bother to look up, much less do anything other than look down. 2D had hoped that he would continue talking, but that was definitely not going to happen.

Both bask in the silence of the area. 2D waddles up in a fetal position facing away from the reaper, resting his hands under his head. He tried to fall asleep, but to no avail. Sure, Murdoc being felt safer, but it also brought with it an odd, unanswerable feeling. He couldn’t do it. 

“Murdoc, yew can go if yew want, I’ll be okay.” He spoke the words carefully and softly. He waited a moment for him to answer, but there was none. He sits up and looks at the dark figure in the corner.

He had his arm propped on his crisscrossed legs, using his hand to support his face. His face. Since his stay in purgatory, he has never been able to see the reapers face, it was finally disclosed. Not what he expected, but it was a pleasant surprise. He looked human.

2D grows closer to look at the man in awe and curiosity, his face looked rugged, and his hair was that of a young Paul McCartney, like he had really lived in the past at one point. He conjured questions in his head as he stared at the sleeping reaper. He was breathing. He looked real. He seemed normal. He seemed lonely. He was always angry. Maybe it was his job that made him like this? Did he eat? 

The questions continued until Murdoc stirred, and he averted his eyes. Looking back, he had slumped over more, causing the hood to fall forward. Such a pity 2D thought. 

It was getting late, he best get some sleep.

***

Every day, his visits grew longer and longer. It made him happy. His stories grew more elaborate and complex as time went on. Both would sit close, the reaper enjoying himself, while 2D would listen with open ears. It may have been a coincidence, but 2D noticed a pattern in Murdoc’s stories. A tragic love story, with a twist, that twist being death each time. 

He didn’t know how long he had been there, but he guessed that Murdoc would come in the evenings every time, helping 2D keep track of the days he would spend there. 

“The star-crossed lovers they were. Ahhh~ Cleopatra was the definition of sexy-I would-ehhhug…..But as said earlier, tragedy struck her. Soooo, riches surrounding her, she had everything she could ever want. Except one thing-“

“’er lover.”

“You got it~”

“Did she kill herself?”

“Yes.”

“How tragic.” 

“It is. Life is tragic. It sucks.”

“It has a few gewd moments.”

“That is an opinion dear friend.”

“Everyone has ‘ad somfin’ gewd ‘appen in their life, big or small.”

“No. Not all. Some suffer their whole lives.”

“But look at Bonnie, and Cleopatria! They ‘ad somefin’ gewd! They ‘ad a partner that loved ‘em, and cared for ‘em!”

“Think 2D! What if they didn’t have anyone! What then! What if you live your life, poor, no family, no one ever cared for you! Then what!”

“…it wouldn’t make for a gewd story t’en.” 2D felt what Murdoc had just said was very…specific. He crosses his arms and sighs.

“Exactly.”

“’ave yew eva ‘ad a partner?”

“Shut the fuck up and keep your fucking nose where it belongs, dullard!”

“I’m sorry!” 2D looks away, pulling his knees into his chest tightly in a pouty way. Murdoc was his friend. Right? Friends can share secrets.

“But Murdocccc, I wanna ‘ere ‘bout yew! What is your story? I’m not gonna tell anyone! I promise! 2D looks at Murdoc with big, sad puppy eyes, while folding his hands in a degrading manner.

“No. That was a long time ago. We need not to focus on something of that manner.”

“Mur’doc.”

“Yes?”

“Why dew yew hide yer face? I-I fink yew look nice…” He couldn’t keep it too himself. He had to tell someone that he saw the reapers face, even if it was to the reaper himself. It may have been a better idea to have kept that to himself he thought as he watched Murdoc sit up, hands clenched at his side.

“Shut up! I know your kind! You just want to get close to me so I can put in a good word for you! I know better…for it is not I who am doing such for the likes of you…lower lifes! You have been toying with me! I know you were going to do this! I thought I could trust someone. I…hope you go to hell.”

“Mur’doc…it was a complement…I fough yew really looked nice…the Keith Richards hair cut really fits your face…it’s a shame yew cover it. I fink I would ‘ave felt less scared knowing death looked like a 70’s rock star…But that’s just me!” 2D blushed lightly after ending his sentence with the awkward line. He felt either Murdoc would kick him, or mutilate his body in some way, or leave, and to never been seen again. It just seemed…Murdoc like to him.

What he didn’t expect was for Murdoc to pull back the dark cloth from his face and look at 2D with his mismatched eyes. Definitely not what he expected. 

“You think I look like a 70’s rock star?” Murdoc holds back a grin, his eyes glinting slightly from the red on the mountains behind them.

“Yeah, yew dew, all yew need now is ta mess it up a bit! ‘Ere! I can ‘elp!” 2D stands up joyfully and trots over to the reaper. 

 

 

He done fucked up. He accidently walked out of the circle. It was over. He was going to hell. Why. He was finally having a little bit of fun. Just innocent fun…

2D had to take a second and process the crime he just committed. His face dropped. He feel on the ground, onto his knees, looking straight ahead, and laughs. It grows louder, echoing through the area. The reaper stands his ground, looking in amazement. 

“I walked out…I-I’m goin’…I…I d-don’t want to go ta-a h-hell…Can I just k-kill my s-soul, and end m-my l-life foreva? I…CAN’T GO THERE! I WANTED TO DEW SOMFIN’ WIF MY LIFE!” He falls to his side, screaming as he curls in a fetal position. He flails his arms in the dirt, kicking up dust and getting himself dirty in the process. He screamed. He cried. He didn’t know what else to do. He was going to go to the most miserable place, full of torture, pain, and suffering. 

Murdoc stands by, watching 2D carry on his ruckus. He didn’t understand what was going on, most are sent to hell immediately if they commit this…treason. He could leave the man, leave him to flail his spaghetti like appendages in the dirt, or he could ask the higher-ups…

No. 

He should stay here. He can live in purgatory. It wasn’t the ideal place, but it was better than none. It was too late to think of bringing the soul back to the body. The body was already embalmed and placed in a government issued graveyard, like everyone else. Or he could ask 2D…

Murdoc waits until the man stops his crying, and the dirt settles down before asking his question.

 

“2D, where do you want to be right now?”

“ANYWHERE BUT HELLLL! PLEASE MUR’DOC! I-I WANT TO BE ‘OME! THIS IS A BAD DREAM! I CAN’T TAKE IT!” His howling was high-pitched and aggravating, but what he said was not a good enough answer for Murdoc. 

“CALM DOWN FACE-ACHE! Be specific ,2D…where, if yew had to choose where you wanna be, anywhere but home.”

“I-I wanta be somewhere safe…warm…not red…not hell…and I don’t wanna be alone. I neva wanna be alone…being alone makes m-me scared…like this w-whole time since i-I been ‘ere…except when yew were wif me. I don’t w-wanna go to hell, Murdoc.” 2D sniffles and wipes away the dirt and tears from his face with his hand.

Somewhere warm…safe…and not red….well, heaven would be that such place, but the hell to get there was not worth it. Plus, this was an odd circumstance. He had a place in mind, but that would be a sacrifice on him as well, he wasn’t sure if he should do it or not. It would mean his whole life would be different…at least until he could sort everything out, and keeping him in purgatory is kind of a rude thing to do. Murdoc wouldn’t want to stay here, and he was sure 2D had had more than enough time in the hellish area. He hopes he wouldn’t regret it.


	3. It's really dark.

“Stand up mortal, we are going to my place.”

2D doesn’t move, and instead, continues to cry with more emotion.

“Look. You can either stay here, or come with me, your choice mate.” The planking man begins to stir, and eventually stands up, wiping tears from his eyes. Murdoc hated body fluids.

“Don’t do that crying shit anymore. Now, follow me, if you would.” Murdoc cautiously looks behind him before walking towards one of the towering, red mountains. He abruptly swings his scythe, cutting a crack in between the worn rock.

“Now don’t stand there! Start moving your arse in!” 2D fearfully sticks his lanky leg in the menacing looking vortex. The Murdoc shoves him. Falling on the ground again was not in the plan, but considering what he was going to see next, he best keep his mouth shut. 

Murdoc walks past him, grabbing the gold door knob to a Victorian house. It was small, and it has definitely seen better days. The black paint on the pillars could be seen, flaking away. The whole building was dark, the only thing that did stand out was the door knob. He gets up. Creeping across the floor boards made the most god-awful creaking sound, making 2D cover his ears. The reaper looks back, frowning in disapproval, but still motions for the man to come in.

The inside was no different. Dark, black paint on all the walls. It was the minimum of material creativity. The room smelled like an old library, like the books have been marinating in the sweltering heat for about 200 years. 

There was a kitchen that connected to the living room, and branching off to the living room, were two bed rooms right across from each other. 

Murdoc draws closer to the room on the far left, and opens the door, guiding 2D to the old, rickety bed with its noticeably dingy, white sheets.

“This is the best I can do, maybe I can find something else to put in here…Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you.” Murdoc slumps his back as he walks out of the room, leaving 2D by himself, not bothering to even say a farewell.

An ominous smell filled the room. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the one thing he could compare it to be a stuffy office. A small table stood in the corner, and the bed sat in the middle. That was it. It felt like a small prison, but even prison would be better than purgatory. Anything was better than purgatory. 

He wanted to cry.

The bed looked surprisingly inviting, and in less than five minutes, Stewart was out cold.

 

***

 

He woke up feeling chilly. The thin sheet was useless compared to the arctic cold, but he didn’t mind. He needed to get up anyway.

2D walks gingerly out of his room, hoping to see his friend, savior, and owner of the fine house, Murdoc. The living room was empty, so was the kitchen. It skimmed his mind that the reaper could be in his room, and could quite possibly wake him up, but that was asking for a death wish, even if he was already dead. It was a privilege to be in his house. 

Murdoc seem like the type of person that enjoyed his privacy.

Sighing, he sits in the living room chair, which was surrounded in books. It was like a tiny library. Murdoc must have liked to read…as if that was not evident. He had to be very cultured with the amount of books in the room. There was one book that sat on the side table, making 2D squeak.

‘Cleopatra and Alexander.’

“I get it now! Mur’doc would come ‘ome and read stories, and tell dem to me!”

Maybe the Bonnie and Clyde story was an exception, according to Murdoc, he was a witness to the event. The book was old and tethered in leather. 2D picks it up and begins to read. What else was there to do? He couldn’t get mad at him for reading…right?

 

Time went by fast. He never noticed that the clock hands changed. It rang. 6:00 p.m. The door swings open. Murdoc stands in the door way, scythe in hand, and walks in, ignoring his guest. He didn’t seem very happy. Blood stains could be seen on his coal black shawl. Definitely not a good day. That was a given.

“What the hell are you doing in my chair?”

“I was readin’ t’at book on the table…”

“…okay. Get out of my chair. I have stuff to do.” 2D gets up, and Murdoc takes his chair, sinking into its soft cushion.

“’ow was your day?”

“Shittyyyyy~ As always~”

“Oh…so what yew dew when yew get ‘ome den?”

“Sleep. Or read. Whateverrrrrr” Murdoc puts his head back and exaggerates the r more while 2D stands awkwardly. 

“rrrrrrrrr-Hey, make yourself useful and cook something. I’m hungry. I don’t know what I have in the kitchen, but there should be something that you could possibly make a sandwich out of.” There was no point in arguing, 2D felt like he could eat too. 

Staggering into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator door, he finds sadness and a pack of expired cold cuts. 

“Wut the ‘ell yew eat ‘ere?”

“Food.” So elaborate. 2D makes the most pitiful sandwich to date. The bread was cut to remove mold, and the sad turkey cut hung over the side of its crust less exterior. That was it. No cheese. No ketchup. Nothing else.

‘’Eres a sandwich. Any ‘fing else?”

“I think I got a soda in the fridge. Put it in my dead, cold hands.”

“Soda? Soda! Yew been ‘oldin’ out on meh!”

“Yes. Now get me my soda. And make it snappy! I’m an impatient man, Stewart.”

What was this guy’s problem? 2D was just trying to be friendly with death. Murdoc seemed more open when they hung out in purgatory. 2D does as he is told and sits on the ground across from the moody man. He watches as he eats, finding himself locking his eyes on his every move, making the other notice.

“What are you doing?”

“Lookin’ at yew…”

“Don’t do that.” Murdoc continues to eat, leaving 2D to sit in the unentertaining silence of the room.

Finishing his sandwich, Murdoc motions for 2D to stand up.

“Clean up the kitchen, and sit back down.”

While doing so, 2D felt anger rise from within him. Did the reaper really just take him out of purgatory to do his chores? His demanding nature was rude, especially towards a guest. It was wrong, but then again, nothing was right.

Finishing the dishes, he sits back down. Murdoc leans back in the chair and plucks a book from the shelf behind him, opening it up swiftly.

“Wut book is that, Mur’doc?”

“Does it matter? Shut up and listen.” The reaper reads the first sentence and 2D could already tell what the book was. “Romeo and Juliet.” It was kind of a shock that he had not read this book yet. Every book was a pattern, making death seem more mysterious. Looking at Murdoc, you would think he would read the typical goth stuff, like “The Raven”, or maybe even a Steven King novel. Tragic love stories didn’t see, like him at all.

Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe he has already read every type of murder or mystery story, and was educating himself on ancient tragedies. What did death hold? He wanted to know. He needed to know.

Nearing the end of the story, Murdoc closes the book softly and smirks.

“Wellllll-, it’s getting late, listen, I got reaping work to do in the morning, so if you don’t mind, I will retire for today.”

He gets up to leave. 2D grunts, unhappy with Murdoc’s statement. 

“What? Don’t be sad luv, I know you can’t get enough of me, but guess what? I have a day off coming up soon. For now, help yourself to the books on the shelf…except those over there. Those are my speciallll ones. But really, I will slit your neck if you touch those~ night!”

He dashes from the makeshift library and into his room. What a strange request. Why was he so…reserved and secretive? What was in the books on the shelf over to the left? Was it bad? Why were there more questions than answers? 2D had to look in them now. 

Waiting until he could hear the snores from the room down the hall, he sits in the chair, thinking about the man. He quietly gets up and pulls down one of the books excitingly, taking in the cover.

 

Dirty old reaper.

 

Porn. Huge amounts of porn. Every type you could think of. Why would he put it here?! 2D then remembers that he did live alone, feeling some sympathy for him, but that did not last long. So much stuff…kinky shit. Why the fuck was that woman… 2D puts the book back in disgust. What else did the reaper enjoy? The next book was a religious text. Makes sense, considering he is death. He continues to move through the shelves, finding more subjects that should be prohibited to even contemplate. Gay porn. Graphic books on the human anatomy. Embalming. Witch craft. Black magic.

It was a lot to take it. This had to be Murdoc’s secret hobby. No wonder he chose to read those sappy romance books. Everything he wants to read is…filthy. 

There was one last book that caught his eye. It didn’t have a spine that was in tac, and it looked as though it was ready to turn to dust if anyone were to touch it. He grabs it sweetly. 

 

A diary. 

 

2D eagerly opens it without a thought of a future repercussion in mind. He quietly reads the first page, his blood pumping. It was exhilarating. 

Date: 91’  
Today sucked, as always. I killed some famous musician in Louisiana today. Poor guy. Last of his kind, he was curled up like the drug addict he was. He wanted to die. I never liked the states, too hot. Brings back memories going to that fucking dirt hole. I just wish that this job would get easier. I hate it. 

It was a small entry, but in those few sentences, 2D learned more about Murdoc than the time he spent with him. He closed the book. That was enough snooping around for one day. 

***

The days continued, Murdoc would get home, 2D would greet him and cook. As Murdoc began to feel more comfortable with 2D’s presents, it wasn’t as hellish. Before reading a book, they would actually hold a conversation. And when it was time to read the book, 2D found himself sitting closer to him each time.

 

They were like a 50’s house couple.

With some extra material laying around, 2D made an apron. Usually he would reconsider such a girly thing, but it was pissing him off getting water and food on his clothes. Food was a different situation. Murdoc would bring home food from somewhere every week. He still didn’t understand why death had to eat, but he just went along with it. 

 

***

 

Murdoc walks in one night, 2D had just finished making scones, the way he remembered his mother making them. With the scones, he had made a type of stew, with a side of potatoes. He was not sure what type of meat he had used for the concoction, but nevertheless, it smelled delicious. 

“Smells good luv. We go-“ Murdoc looks to his side table in the living room, to see a can of soda, ice cold, waiting for him to drink.

“Well~ I see that someone has been prepared for me to come home~ Thanks luv.” Murdoc props his scythe beside the chair, immediately sitting down to get cozy.

“Yew ready ta eat?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else yew would like ta go wif dis?”

“No. Just you.” 2D ignores Murdoc’s mocking utterance, and quickly scoops an ample amount of food on the fine china, grabbing a silver fork and napkin as well. He was proud of himself today. He cooked a decent meal, he cleaned up all the rooms, well except Murdoc’s. He could get use to this way of living.

2D hands death the plate of food, smiling slightly as he does so. Murdoc can’t help but grin back.

“You know, you still look like a girl with that apron on. Also, you need a haircut. You are going to look like a hippie soon.”

“Why does my hair grow though…” 2D utters as he grabs a lock, looking at it with soft eyes.

“Because, when you die, your hair, and nails still do…Something like that. At least you’re not in hell! Damn, heaven would have missed out on having such a great cook…” 2D could feel himself blush. Did Murdoc just complement him? On his cooking? 2D dashes back to the kitchen, waiting for his face to revert back to its original color, before going back to the living room. 

“’ow was your day?”

“It was okay, but it’s better now.”

“Because your ‘ome?”

“Yesss, and I get to see you, of course.” Murdoc was feeling bold today. He wanted to watch him fluster to his teasing, and he got what he wanted, as always. 2D looks down, hoping his blue hair would cover his face somewhat. 

Both bask in the silence, until Murdoc finishes, putting his plate on the table. 2D gets up to bring it to the sink, but Murdoc stops him. 

“Hey now, we are in no rush to clean, are we? You literally have all the time in the world, well technically…” Murdoc trails off, but 2D still grabs the plate. 2D was just trying to follow the regular schedule, but Murdoc wanted to change it up. 

“Just put the plate in the sink, come back in here. I don’t think you understand what I’m saying Stewart.” 2D froze. What was Murdoc going on about? 

“But Mur’doc, they are goin’ ta get nasty if yew leave ‘em out like dis…” 

“JUST DO WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO!” Murdoc was taken back by his own voice. He shouldn’t have done that. He heard 2D start to sniffle. Fucking hell…

Over time, he had learned that 2D was one of the most sensitive humans he had ever seen. If you were to show any type of anger towards him, he would cry. It really made him seem like a baby, but it also made him seem more…real. Crying was an emotion that one does to show distress. The last thing Murdoc wanted to do was to make 2D cry, especially after cooking, and cleaning for him.

2D walks back into the room, trying to hide the tears coming down his cheeks with the apron around his waist. So innocent. 

“Stewart…Don’t cry…I’m sorry I’m such an ass. You know what? Pick any book you want for me to read. I…You did a lot today, and deserve a break.” The reaper looks away from 2D. 2D still has his head buried into his apron, most likely he had not heard what the other had said. The sniffling grows louder by the second, and it was making Murdoc want to scream.

“I-I’m sorry M-Muds…I’M SO STUPID! DON’T ‘URT M-ME! I WILL LISTEN NEXT TIME! I-I WILL DEW EVERYFIN’ YEW TELL ME TA DEW! I’M S-SORRY! Don’t s-send me t-ta the bad p-place…p-please.” 2D falls on his knees in front of the reaper, balling. The salty tears started to run down his shirt, making his apron useless. 

Murdoc stands up, and gets on his knees as well. If you can’t beat them, join them. Or at least do something to comfort them. He wraps on arm around the skinny man’s waist, and with the other, pushes 2D’s head into the crook of his neck. The warm tears absorbed into his black coat immediately. 

“Don’t cry no more. It’s not healthy, okay? Now, I’m not mad at you, I just can control my violent urges...Your tired, and need sleep. You did a lot today, and deserve rest. I don’t want to hear you beg me to not send you to hell. I would never do that.” The crying subsides, and 2D grabs the reapers shoulders, pressing his head closer. Touch. He was warm.

 

“O-okay.” 

Neither of them let go. Physical contact. Body heat. Unsaid physical emotion. It had been a long time. 

Murdoc didn’t know what to do. He sure as hell didn’t want to upset the poor soul by telling him to quit, but he felt himself being drawn to him. It was a weird feeling for him, what should he do? 

“I don’t want to hear you talk. Just…let me take care of everything for today.” Murdoc pulls back and motions for 2D to get up as well. Staggering, 2D wipes his blood-shot eyes. 

“I still want to read, but you are more than welcome to do as you please.”

“W-what yew gonna read?”

“Joan of Arc.”

“Oh. I’ll stay den.” Not a tragic love story today? What was the special occasion? 2D sits next to the chair, leaning against the side as Murdoc flipped through the pages, clearing his rough voice. 

 

***

 

2D could only listen up to the second chapter. Sleep was creeping up on him. Murdoc’s voice carried him away within minutes. 

Murdoc reads through the sentence, stopping when he hears a loud, uneven breathing next to him. He smiles to himself.

“Had a bad day huh, luv?” Don’t worry, we all get them.” Murdoc folds the corner of the book and sets it on the side table. 

“Don’t tell no one I am going soft. You shouldn’t sleep in the shitty bed tonight.” Murdoc crotches down and gently picks up the taller one. 

“I feel like you were not a mistake. Something is goingggg on up there.” He looks up at the ceiling and growls.

“I know you can’t hear me, Stewart, but thank you for being here, even if it is not by your own will.” The clock goes off, ringing in a deep pitch. It was time to sleep. Murdoc stands up and opens the door to his makeshift bedroom. He lays Stewart on the opposite side of the twin sized bed, making sure to cover him with several layers of blanket. He didn’t belong here.

The reaper sighs before crawling on the opposite side. For once, the bed was warm.

 

***

 

The morning was awfully confusing. Murdoc was in his bed. No. He was in Murdoc’s bed. When did he move? He put him there? 2D covers his face in the fluffy blanket. Murdoc’s snoring continues. It was too much. How did this come to be? What happened last night? Oh god…2D stands up and tip-toes out of the room. He could escape now. Hopefully Murdoc doesn’t remember anything…if they did anything. 

He wasn’t quick enough, the beast began to stir. It was over. 

Murdoc sits up, look straight at the door, seeing Stewart peering at him with a piss scared face. Murdoc lays back down in the bed, and covers his face with his right hand. 

“For fucks sake Stewart. It’s almost three. What possessed you to get out of bed?”

“That isn’t my bed.”

“Well that one in the other room ain’t yours either.”

 

2D stands in silence. 

 

“I fought that we…ugh…” Murdoc drags his hand across his hair as he listens to 2D’s mumbling. 

“You feel asleep listening. You were tired. I did the right thing. Come back to sleep, luv. I don’t bite.” What the fuck did he just say?

“Oh! Well, I’m not tired anymore. I’m gonna clean up the kitchen and start cookin’ somefin’ for yew ta-“

“Stewart. Sleep. Now. You have all day to do that. Just get some rest. You have only slept for a few hours.”

“But I’m not tired!” 

“Don’t talk to me like that! Now. Please sleep.”

“I don’t wanna Mur’doc.”

“Fine. Fall over in exhaustion then. I don’t care.” Murdoc turns around, tired of arguing with the other. 2D squeals in disapproval. The reaper knew he won now. 

“Okay Muds…you win.” 2D trudges over to the side of the bed and crawls back in the dark sheets. Murdoc snickers to himself. He won. 

“Alright. Get sleep, luv.” Murdoc rubs his hand back and forth in Stewart’s hair in a friendly manner. 

“And also, I have the day off tomorrow, and we are cutting your hair later. It’s a fucking rat’s nest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry my updates are getting late! School is my purgatory. Well, we are seeing Stewart start to get way more emotional!(And Murdoc!)   
> I know this fanfic is not my most popular one, but I have a burning passion to finish it, and it will be! (Same for my other, September) I have a special one shot 2Doc, pure smut, that will be posted soon, as well as a new chapter to September and a one-shot follow up to in cold blood. So much too do! Love you all, and I hope you are all doing well!


	4. The flapjacks of burning thoughts

2D wakes up, feeling cold again.

“Mur’doc musta left for work…” He sighs. This was honestly the best sleep he had gotten since this crazy extravaganza of an adventure began. Sure, he missed his family but not his job, or responsibilities. He was content being in the presence of death. Death was comforting to him. He was rough, but deep down, 2D knew that there was more to him. Then he remembers. The diary.

He throws the sheets to the side and stands up, an electric jolt goes up his back.

“What the ‘ell was that.” He turns around trying to touch the area giving him discomfort. In the process of doing so, he notices just how dark the room was. Black sheets. Black comforter. Black walls. This guy must of really liked the color black. 

It was pointless to try to sooth the uncomfortable feeling, it was time to wash the dishes.

 

*** 

 

Sighing again, he leans back in the leather chair. This dishes were not too bad, since they soaked the night before. 2D reaches behind him, grabbing the one book that has been embedded in the back of his mind since day one. He sets it on his lap and carefully opens it. 

 

Date: 03’

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKK. I’m tired of being here. About to hit the 12 year mark! WOOHOOO BITCHES! That felt nice. Only 88 more to go, and I’m scotttt freee! I wish I could have alcohol. Oh, and a cigar doesn’t sound too bad either~ FUCKIDY FUCK FUCK FUCK! IT’S 2003, AND I STILL WANT TO DIE.

 

2D looks in at the text with worried eyes. No alcohol? What’s that about? He turns to the next log.

 

Date: 03’

Nothing has changed. Killed a small child today. That never goes well, it really is a cruel world. The most innocent of people die the quickest, usually by the hands of the dirty, or a disease. I AM REALLYYYY TIREDDDDD. 

 

The next one made him decide to put the book away for good.

 

Date: 03’

I want to die. This place is hell. My job is a living hell. I have no one. I regretted everything I’ve ever done. I am a disgrace. I wish I were in hell sometimes. Killed a woman in her early 20’s. Nothing new. I AM HORNYYYYYYY. AND I CAN’TTTT DO NOTHING ABOUT ITTTT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH-

 

2D wanted to keep reading, but this was getting too personal. So did this mean that Murdoc wasn’t really the reaper? Why 100 years? The confused man lets out a high pitched squeal in frustration. He just wanted to know what was going on with Murdoc. 

He put the book back. He still had a few hours before he came home. Maybe he could cook something. No. He had to cook. That’s all he could do. 

 

*** 

 

The clock roars. The door opens. He stands. 2D looks up from his the pot. God, Murdoc looked like a mess.

“Welcome ‘ome Mur’doc! I’m cookin’ somfin’ gewd right now! I ‘ope yew won’t mind I’m a little behind today.” 2D cringes at his own words. That was the most generic sentence that has ever escaped his mouth. Murdoc gives him a quaint look back before sitting in his usual spot. 

“Whatever retard. I’m gonna take a nap or some shit. Don’t wake me up unless you want a ladle up your arse.” He closes his eyes. The knife on the cutting board echoes through the room.

“Could you cut that out, Stewart?”

“I’m sorry…I’ll be more quiet.” The noise dulls down, but it was still audible. 

“How long are you going to do that then?”

“Donno. Maybe a few more minutes….Am I too loud?

“Yes, but…fuck this. I’m going to lay in bed for a few.” He walks away, and a melancholy feeling arises within 2D. He couldn’t cook if he had these type of emotions. What would he want someone to do if he felt down? He couldn’t buy anything, or do any type of meaningful action. Or could he? Would Murdoc get mad if he did that?

“Mur’doc before yew go!” 2D rushes into the hallway, catching the other just as he was about to walk in the room. 

“What do you want? I’m fucking tired! Can this wait until later, please?” 2D shakes his head. 

“Mur’doc, yew are aving’ a bad day, and I-I fink yew just need a hug!” 2D quickly hugs the man. Tightly. The reaper had no time to react. 2D smiled. 

“Everyone needs some kinda touch, Muds. Even death.” Murdoc could felt his legs shake. 2D was touching him. Him. Death’s bitch.

“Yew get some rest den. Food will be ready when yew get up! Sleep well!” 2D runs out of the hall. Murdoc grabs the doorknob to keep himself from falling. He quietly turns the handle, walking in the room. He shuts the door, locking it. Warm tears began rolling from his eyes. 

 

*** 

 

Murdoc wakes up, smelling a substance radiating through the crack of the door. He rubs his eyes and instantly felt even shitter than before. He gets up and walks to the mirror on top of the side table. 

“I look like shit.” Bloodshot eyes with dark circles accenting it. Long tongue. No. He liked that. Putrid skin. Long nails. What the point of living if you look like shit, and are isolated from any human interaction? 

He walks out, his bangs were messier than usual. 

2D stands up as he sees him walk out.

“Yew feelin’ betta?” He smiles again, but not showing his teeth this time. The smile was burning the inside of his head. 

“I’ma get your food! Guess what I made! I made gravy!” 

“Any meat?”

“Chicken!” His favorite. He always enjoyed greasy, unhealthy food, especially chicken. May explain why he looks so ugly. You are what you eat. 

“I ‘ope yew like it! Oh! I ‘ope we can read a book today! Yew still want ta cut my ‘air today? We could wait tomorrow. I’ll bring your food!” He was still grinning. It was undeniable that is was adorable when 2D was insistent on something. 2D twirls into the kitchen, grabbing the plate with one hand, walking back like a carhop. 

“So Muds, why was your day so bad?” 

“Killing people isn’t a thing to be happy about.”

“You’re not killing them. You’re helping them.” 2D looks at him with a straight face. 

“Yew helped me, and countless others find our way. Hell is bad, I know, but some people deserve ta go there. Yew can’t ‘elp that yew-“ 

“2D. Stop.” Murdoc drops his fork on the plate, letting it clank loudly. His appetite was gone. 

“Take the plate. I’m not hungry right now. I need sleep.”

“But M-“

“Shut it, you annoying bloke! Don’t you understand! I-I need sleep…” Murdoc sets the plate aside and begins walking to his room again. Murdoc was running away. He knew that a confrontation of sort was about to occur. 

“Mur’doc! Somfins’ botherin’ yew…let me ‘elp. Please.” 

“NO 2D! STAY OUT OF THIS! NOTHING IS WRONG!” Murdoc hits the side of the wall with his fists; leaving a small indention in the wall. 

“You don’t need to bother yourself with my affairs anyways. I-I…need to sleep.” 2D was not that stupid, the reaper was not getting away from him, at least with that stupid of an excuse. 

“I wanna know Muds. Please…I wanna make somfin’ of my life. Yew ‘elped me, and I wanna ‘elp yew.” 

What’s the point of keeping pent up emotions. He could trust 2D. 

 

*** 

 

1991

His hair was oily that day. He just stole one of the nicest cars possible. He was trouble. His teacher and peers knew him as the ‘worst student.’ He may as well be born with a cigarette in his hand, because even during his final moments, he grasped the rolled paper between his lips. Playing loud music, stealing money for the nearest whore houses, and even joining local gangs, that was Niccals. 

He was never a religious man, and still is not to this day. He never thought ahead for his future. Here he sits, 25 years of age, wondering what his next deed should be. 

“Fuck the local cheer team….check! Take all of Hannibal’s cash….check! Steal dinner from the grocer….check! What’s next?” Murdoc laughs to himself as he drives on the empty road. There was nothing to do, except take in the scenery. He turns up the radio, until he hears a loud siren behind him.

“OHHHH, FUCK ME UPSIDE DOWN, DEBBIE HARRY!” He flores the gas. The police were on him again. The flickering blue lights flash behind him as he grabs the wheel with both hands. They couldn’t get him again. Last time he get felt up by the inmate in his cell until his time was over. They can’t get him. The road began to grow much narrower. They were right behind him. He was not going to make it.

He pulls over. They are the only ones who can get him. He was going to be in jail for a while this time. All the shit on his record was going to fuck him up. The police man gets closer. 

There was one way out. With shaking hands, he reaches under his seat. A revolver. 

They were not going to get him alive. He didn’t have anything to live for anyway. Only the good die young, right?

*** 

Everything was black. Was he dead? He had to be. 

He opens his eyes to see a trial before him. Gold decorations of angle wings surrounding him. 

“For the record, have we mentioned how many bad things this man has done? With this list of items in hand, this should be more than enough to prove that this man is guilty!” 

“No, no, no. Look, those cheer leaders were giving him consent, and he needed the money! This poor soul has had in rough! Please sir, reconsider the final decision.” A loud thump comes from the podium. 

“No. Nothing you two can say will change my mind. Send him to the between. We need a new recruit. Once he does his time, we will consider a new trial.”

 

*** 

 

Why the fuck was everything so dark after death? He wakes up in a round circle, surrounded in a dark, red sand. Oh. He was in hell. Not surprising. He lays down in the dirt, sprawling his arms. Everything was shit. Nothing was fucking good anymore. Even in hell, he was bored. 

A black silhouette walks towards him, its arm extended. Murdoc backs away in the ominous action. Wait, why back up? Either way, hell’s demons were going to get him, so why try defending yourself. He steps closer, and touches the youngers shoulder. His bony hand was like a feather on him. Emotions overwhelmed him. The silhouette disappears. 

 

*** 

 

No one told him, ‘Hey, you’re the reapers bitch,’ but Murdoc just knew that was what he was. He did all the jobs the reaper did not want to do, like the car wrecks, and taking the children. A paper would appear on his door steps every 6th off the month, telling him where to go, and what to do. It was just that simple. He knew he would go to hell if he didn’t do his job right. He didn’t know why he was picked. He didn’t know how he knew all of these ‘rules.’ It all came to him, like some awakening vision of sort. He had to eat, he was warm. He was still human. The house was not real. It was just a manifestation of his darkest thoughts. It scared him. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was scared. He was being used, and that was worse than hell in some aspects. 

 

*** 

 

2D listens to Murdoc with open ears. If Muds said 1991, that would mean he didn’t watch Bonnie and Clyde. Murdoc had lied. Could he believe anything the man said? 

“Muds. Yew lied ta me. Why would yew do that?” 

“I didn’t want you to think any less of me. ”

“You know I would not dew dat.”

“Well…I know now, luv. I am a piece of shit, and I just love getting every-”

“Shhhhh, don’t down yourself, it is not gewd. Just don’t lie ta me again, or I won’t cook for yew anymore.” Murdoc gave a sad smile, acknowledging 2D’s very light threat, which was said with much emotion.

“You are something else, Stewart.”

“Don’t call me Stewart anymore, Mur’doc. It’s just 2D. Yew are my friend.” 

“2D.”

“Yeah?”

“I want to cry.”

“Dew it.” 2D opens his arms, and Murdoc take no time to take them for himself. He hated bodily fluids. 

2D comforts the crying man by rubbing circles into his back. It was going to be a long night. 2D wanted to cry with him, but someone needed to say strong. Murdoc was scared. He has been scared for a long time. They had a lot more in common than he thought. Sure, he didn’t understand Murdoc’s situation, but holding onto such a strong feeling for so long, and finally being able to spill his guts, it must have hurt. Murdoc’s sniffling was making 2D break down in the inside. Everyone’s emotions were being said. Almost.

 

*** 

 

Murdoc wakes up in the hall. It was unusually warm. 2D had stayed with him the whole night. His long, spaghetti like arms were wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him in a warm, loving embrace. 2D’s head was lazily placed on his shoulder. He still had his apron on. Must have passed out from crying.

He was mad with himself. He had to depend on the kindness of others for once. He cried, he wined, and he told a human his pains in less than an hour. It was disgusting. 2D’s angelic like face was the only thing stopping him from leaving. He enjoyed the company of the other, it made him feel alive. Never in his life had he felt the heat of another. It was nice. 2D was making his life better, and worse.

Yes, the food he cooked was good. Yes, he liked it when 2D would stutter adorably. Yes, he actually thought the apron he worse was cute. But he couldn’t say that. That would ruin everything. He was not only being nice letting 2D sleep with him that night, he was being selfish. He wanted him to be next to him. He felt a connection with 2D that was right, it could not be put in proper terms, but he felt…love. He closes his eyes, and sleeps more. Waking the angel would be wrong.

 

*** 

 

Waffles. Or pancakes? 

Murdoc gets up. His blue-haired lovely was gone. Proceeding into the kitchen, there he was, standing over a hot stove, a twinkle in his eye. He grins as Murdoc walks closer. 

“Did yew sleep gewd?”

“Yeah, for once.”

“Dew yew fink dat yew sleep betta when I’m ‘round?” Murdoc’s eyes widen. It was like 2D went in his head and knew everything he felt. Was he that easy to read? Murdoc licks his lips before replying.

“I don’t know luv. Do you sleep better when I am around?” 2D felt the room get hotter. 

“M-maybe. Dat room in der is kinda creepy. And cold…” 2D takes his eyes off of the pancake, trying hard to not look at Murdoc, who was standing right next to him now.

“Well, I know what we can do about that~” 2D shifts in his spot. Was Murdoc really about to suggest what he was thinking? Smoke began to fill the room. The taller man looks back to his cooking, to find the pancake had slid off, and was currently being burned like a marshmallow on an open flame. What was wrong with him today?

2D never realized that Murdoc had left the room, he was instead concerned more for the burning flapjack. 

“You should have said something earlier, I have extra blankets you know.” Murdoc has come back with a heavy black blanket in one hand, and the other hand on his hip like a school girl. 2D strategically tries to get the crisp flour circle from the hot stove, but his actions were in vain. Screaming filled the room.

“AHHH FUCK ME! THAT ‘URT LIKE ‘ELL!” Murdoc quickly drops the blankets, running toward the injured one, pulling him away from the stove. 

“WHAT HAPPENED?”

“I-I BURNED M-MYSEF!”

“You will be okay! I don’t have any medical supplies, but the wound should be gone in 24 hours! Don’t panic! 

“B-but, it ‘urts.”

“You will be okay luv.” He throws the scalding pan in the sink. “I think you cooked enough flapjacks to murder a man, anyway. Let’s eat.” Murdoc escorts the burnt man to the living room, a forgotten blanket lay on the floor. 

 

*** 

 

2D sat on the floor, holding his burnt hand in a childish manner. The remark that was said earlier was lingering in the room. Murdoc walks in with the lukewarm pancakes sitting on a plate. God, it had been so long since he had eaten a breakfast pastries. He sets the china on the small, side table.

“You know,” He grabs a pancake, taking a bite from it. “That room isn’t all that bad, real big, spacious. I can find something else to put in there if you want, something comforting, like a lamp. I don’t know. Whatever. I can’t help that it is cold.” Murdoc grabs another flapjack. 2D mimics his action.

“I fout yew were gonna suggest dat…nevamind!” Murdoc laughs as 2D drops the pancake in his own self-shock on the floor. 

“You thought I was gonna do what?”

“This would be betta wif syrup.”

“Yeah, it would. But don’t act like you didn’t here me.”

“I fought yew were gonna suggest we sleep togetha.” Murdoc’s face turns red and he shoves the rest of his pancake down his throat. 2D looks away, colvering each cheek with a hand.

“THAT’S GAYYYYY 2D-“

“WELL. YOU SAID YEW SLEPT BETTA! So did I…I mean, it’s not gay unless we make it. It’s just cold…” Murdoc gets up to leave the room. 2D was unsure of what he was going to do. 

 

“I-I-no-I understand that yew don’t wanna do dat! I can just sleep in the room, Muds! I-I like the cold!” 2D stands up, and follows after Murdoc. 

“Muds, what are yew doin’? The flapjacks are gonna get cold!” 

“Making the bed comfortable for two. You made a somewhat valid point.” 

“Oh.” He could not think of what to say. He was sure the man would oppose in the idea. 

“I went ahead and took the pillow in your room, out. We can figure out what to do next later, your hair is pissing me off.” Murdoc motions for 2D to follow him.

 

*** 

 

He never knew that there was a bathroom in the room connecting to the bedroom. It was useless. The food they ate just disappeared, and what was the point of bathing if there was no one to see you, and germs were non-existent. He sat on the high stool, in front of the mirror, but he refused to open his eyes. He was scared to see himself. Murdoc walks around to the corner with a pair of sharp scissors. 

“What cut you want?”

“Just trim it. Nofin’ too crazy.” Murdoc combs his hands through the blue mass as he speaks.

“Yew don’t want a Keith Richardssssss hair cut?” 2D cringes in the exaggerated s. Why did he always do that? Murdoc grins.

“No, It looks gewd on yew, but me...I am more of a…Johnny Thunder’s.” Murdoc sets the scissors aside and gently hits the side of his head in a playful manner.

“You ding-dong, Thunders had a Keith cut! I mean, yeah, he did have a messier look to him. You are more of a Japanese type gal with that straight hair. I could give you a Thunder’s cut of you want, but in my heart it will always be more of a Keith.” 2D frowns at the remark. He was offended. He liked to think of his hair cut to be retro, with a hint of modern. Not a Japanese school girl.

“Whateva. Just a trim.” He looked in the mirror for the first time since his arrival. He looked like a mess. His eyes were darker, and his hair looked like a creature that you would find in a garbage can. Murdoc begins to cut away. He watches as his blue-locks gently hit the floor like feathers in the wind. It didn’t take too long until he had finished.

“Alright, how’s that?” 2D had to admit, it was not too bad. He was sure that the man was going to mess it up somehow, but that did not happen, surprisingly. 

“It looks gewd Muds, fank yew. 

2D felt funny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry to those who thought that the part where Murdoc practically breaks down in front of 2D was too fast. I am trying to move the story along, and I do not want that to be the main focus. Don't take foreshadowing too lightly.   
> I don't see Murdoc being too out of character when I wrote him doing so, when he was hosting the radio show for plastic beach...god. Talk about some weird stuff. Point nemo FM! 2D really is too sweet.  
> More to come, Love you all! Don't hesitate to ask me anything!   
> Love you~


	5. Sin Until You Bust!

2D didn’t know how to categorize the feeling that he had. It all started the day that he supposedly ‘overworked’ himself. The day Murdoc decided to let him sleep in his bed. That day. 

Anytime he saw Murdoc, he wanted to hug him, maybe even hold his hand. It was confusing. His life was confusing. He was so embarrassed when he woke up in his bed, that’s why he wanted to wash the dishes. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to do it again. All 2D wanted to do is understand his emotions. There was one emotion that he kept telling himself that it wasn’t. He had to tell himself every day, when he was cooking, when he was trying to sleep, and even when Murdoc was talking. It couldn’t be that. Having that type of…affectionate feelings…would surely screw up everything. 

He snaps out of his trance to listen to Murdoc. 

“Is there anything else you want to do?”

Hug you. 

“Not really.”

“Alright...I usually don’t go to sleep untillllll, one. Sooooo-“

“Wut yew usually dew on your days off?” Murdoc’s face freezes. 

“I read.” 2D nods carelessly. Seemed likely. 

“Yew wanna dew that den?” 

“Not reallyyyyyy. I was thinking you and I could have some fun~” Not this again. 

“I didn’t see no alcohol when I was in the kitchen.” Murdoc frowns and gets up from his chair to sit with 2D. 

“No dumbass. We could have fun without alcohol.” 

“That’s an opinion. Not a fact.”

“Ohhhh, but I know I can change your mind, luv.” When Murdoc said that last word, it felt dirtier than usually. He had brushed it off for the longest time, thinking it was just a tease, but this time, it felt serious. 

“2D, you should know me well by now. I was bad. I am bad. I shouldn’t be here. But you know…sometimes we have to get from between the lines...” What the fuck was he talking about?

“How do you feel…about me?” 

“I like yew, yew are a gewd person Muds, I am really happy that I got ta meet yew, and get ta know yew.” Murdoc shakes his head and grabs 2D by the shoulders with a tight grip.

“No, 2D. I mean…do you think I…do you…ughhhhh.” Murdoc takes one hand off of his shoulder to cover his face. 2D was muddled. 

“Okay, let’s think theoretically. If I told you I had feelings towards a specific person, how do you think that person would react?” 2D’s eyes widen as Murdoc blushed lightly.

“Well…I would you ‘fank yew for fancying me, and I would most likely fall for yew…unless I already liked yew…” 

“I was kinda asking how the person would react, but…this is better.” 2D’s thoughts from earlier were still lingering in his head, and caused him to answer like he did. Murdoc gets closer, much too close to be considered friendly. 

“It gets lonely around, 2D.” He lifts up his hand, and caresses 2D’s cheek with his rough hand while looking at him with determination. 

“Being around you drives me insane.” His thumb trails down to his neck, and wraps around the back of his neck, drawing him closer to the ‘reapers’ face.

“But there is nothing I can do about it.” He lets go.

“It is a sin to do, and much less think about a thing like that. There are some rules that even I would not break. I need a new trial. I don’t want to go to hell.” 

“Muds, what is the rule yew can’t break? What are yew getting’ at?”

“I can’t drink, smoke….or shag. Can’t even wank off. It is hell.” 

“I fought masturbation was a gewd ‘fing?”

“I thought so too….but nopeee- Stupid ass rules. You can curse all you want, as long as it’s not in Aramaic. Fucking dumb.” 2D began to panic.

 

“But Muds…what ‘bout me…I wanked off the other day…” -

 

“HOW LONG WAS THE OTHER DAY!” 

“Three days ago…I couldn’t ‘elp it! I went for a month without dewin’ it!”

“DAMMIT!” Murdoc gets up to walk around in anger.

“THE BOSS REAPER IS COMING IN TWO WEEKS! WE CAN HIDE YOU! W-WE CAN FIGURE OUT S-SOMETHING!” We have to…” Murdoc’s anxiety was through the roof now.   
“Muds…what’s gonna ‘appen…?”

“YOU’RE GOING TO HELL! YOU ARE GOING TO HELL! YOU ARE TOO INNOCENT FOR THAT PLACE!”

“Mur’doc, yew are scarin’ me…” 2D’s began to wipe his eyes. Murdoc sat down. What could he do? What was there to do? There was a 50/50 chance that when he gets his trial, that he would go to hell. He was a throw away to the boss. He would work his ass, and for what? If 2D was in hell, and it was his fault, how could he go to heaven knowing what he did? It was a fail situation. But then he had an idea.

 

“Let’s do it.”

“Dew wut?”

“Sin until we bust. If you go to hell, let’s go together, in a bang.” 

“So there is nofin’ I can dew to not go ta ‘ell…” His voice was low and shaky.

“No. But I will come with you and protect you for as long as I can.” 2D sniffles and begins to cry. There was only so much Murdoc could do. 

 

*** 

 

Both laid in the silence of Murdoc’s bedroom. 2D was still shook up, and Murdoc was still in disbelief of what he decided to do. 2D decided it was high time to confess. 

“Muds, I need dta confess…I know yew like men. I looked at your books. I ‘fink yew are very sad, and I want ta make yew ‘appy.” 

“I figured. The books were not in their right places last time I checked.” 2D was surprised in Murdoc’s calm tone. 

“So yew aren’t mad?” 

“No. I am happy that someone saw it. It mean you care or some shit.”

“Oh. So if I asked yew how would you feel if someone said they liked yew, and they were a boy, how would yew react?”

“I would tell them to scoot closer.” 

 

He does so.

 

“How did ya know?”

“You are a dimwit. I figured it out when you told me.”

“I neva said I did!”

“Sleep talking, luv. It was quit cute, ‘MMM-Muds, I like yew-‘ then you rolled on your side. Also, it is a little odd that you fell asleep with me in the hall. Occasional stuttering. And what just happened earlier finalized it. Wasn’t gonna say anything, buttttt~” Murdoc grins and sticks his tongue out. 

“There is something I want to do~ or let me say someone~” He laughs and sits up. 2D felt emotion surge through him. So Murdoc really wanted to do this? Seeing Murdoc look at him devilishly and begin to take off his black shawl was all he needed to see. Murdoc leans down and looks 2D in the eyes hungrily. 

“We can’t go back after this.”

“I know.”

Murdoc hesitantly intertwines his digits in 2D’s blue hair, pulling it away to looks at his dark eyes. 2D closes his orbs and Murdoc softly places his lips on 2D’s. They started out slow, 2D biting the older one’s bottom lip for entrance. Murdoc reluctantly opened, and 2D took no time to claim the man’s mouth for his own. He wrap his arms around his neck, bring him closer to deepen the kiss. Murdoc didn’t know the frail man had it in him. His salvia coated his mouth in an undignified manner. His tongue traced along his gum line, making him mew in the new found sensation. 2D smirked and pulled back.

“Yew mind if I take ova?” Murdoc was at a loss of words. Every bloke and broad he fucked, never dominated. One look at 2D and anyone would assume he would definitely be a bottom. 

2D looked him in the eyes and stuck his tongue out, just as Murdoc had did earlier.  
“Let me dew this Muds. I want to make yew ‘appy.” His eyes were full of lust. And Murdoc thought being deprived of sex for a few decades would make him more forceful. The blue-haired man pushes the other on his side, and quickly topping. 

He couldn’t help it. The older man had been on his mind for so long. It was like a huge weight was being lifted from his shoulders as he conquered his pent up yearning. Murdoc took in every slide and touch that was given to him. The way 2D kissed him reduced him to a mumbling mess in less than a minute. And he was more than fine with it.

As the kiss depend with time, Murdoc found himself moving his hand, exploring every bit of his lover. He was in an unconscious state of pure ecstasy while 2D controlled him. It was like a nice massage, but closer, and extremely touchy. 

2D yanked at his black cloak, motioning for him to remove the article. The both pull back to do so, and quickly reunite with even more passion than before. 2D was not the world’s greatest kisser, but Murdoc didn’t care. Any touch was better than none. 

2D moves his head down, and Murdoc moans in dissatisfaction. He delicately sucks the soft skin on his neck, making sure to not bite too hard. Murdoc weaves his hands into his soft, blue hair, pulling him ever so closer. All of his senses were overwhelmed with the intensity. It was weird that he was being touched. He was alone for so long.

He felt a tug at his boxers and swallowed as they were pulled down painstakingly slow. The cold air hit him fast. He was exposed. When he felt strong, slender hands wrap around his member, he knew he couldn’t do it. He grabbed at 2D’s shoulder and pushes him back. Quickly, he grabs the covers and conceals his once naked body, blushing. 2D takes a moment before saying anything.

“I’m sorry Mur’doc! I got carried away! I’m sorry! I understand if yew are mad wif me! I...want ta try it again! I won’t be rough!” Silence. 2D wanted to cry. Did he ruin it? Was it over? He looms over the darker man again, this time burying his head in the crook of his neck, making the other’s face hot.

“I love yew Muds…I don’’t wanna ‘urt yew…I want ta make yew ‘appy…Yew make me ‘appy…I’m sorry I’m such a dimwit! I am so naïve, and ignorant! I want ta be good…I miss yew. I ‘fink bout yew all day when I’m cookin’.” He was like a cat, rubbing his head against his neck with his freshly cut hair. 

Murdoc wraps his hand around the back of his head, making his head come in full contact with his neck. 

“Let’s just sleep, luv.”

“Nooooo- I’m hornyyyy- Please Muds, we were so close.” Murdoc took in the pleading attitude in his voice. It was satisfying to say the least. But he wasn’t going to break. 

“Look, I’m tired. We have all day to do such, or let me say the next two weeks or whatever blah, blah, blah. I need sleep.” He turns around to face away from 2D.

“No Muds! That’s not fair! I need yew now!” 2D pulls back the sheets with new found force. Murdoc groans and huddles into a tighter fetal position. 

“I told you Stuart! Not today!” His words only made 2D needier.

“No Mur’doc! TODAY!” 2D gets on top of him again, ready to finish the job. He smashes his lips on his, biting hard enough to cause blood to gush out. His hand wonders near his neither regions again, but he was not going to let Murdoc get off easy again. Murdoc began to moan out in mercy as 2D began to stroke his member. He tried to push the skinner man off, but it was no use. It was like he gained 50 pounds during the whole ordeal. He continued to slide his hand up and down until Murdoc gave up, falling back onto the pillow in the delightful foreplay. 

“I am gonna fuck yew so hard that yew ain’t gonna be able to walk tomorrow.” Murdoc was in disbelieve that 2D could be so forceful in these situations. 

“I ‘ave been deprived of touch since I got ‘ere. I need ta fuck yew. I’m sorry Muds.” 2D wispers in his ear, licking the outer shell. His hand starts to go faster, and Murdoc felt disgusting already. 

“Yew can’t cum. I won’t let yew. Only when I say yew can.” What was in that food? 2D couldn’t be this horny? He has only been dead for less than a month. 2D slows down for a moment and Murdoc decides it was time to say something.

“2D! W-what is your p-problemmmm-“   
“I don’t know Muds! I DON’T KNOW MUDS! I NEED YEW! I-I WANT YEW!” 2D started to claw at his flesh, leaving behind red marks that were surely going bleed soon.

“STUART! STOP! YOU NEED TO CHILL!” Murdoc must have kicked him hard enough in the stomach to bring him to his senses. He pauses as Murdoc looks at him through his matted bangs. His distraught face looked pleadingly at him. 

“Stuart. It will be okay. We have time.” 

“Muds. We don’t. I DON’T. I’M DEAD. I DON’T WANNA BE ‘ERE! I MISS MY FAMILY!” He implores to the man in his serious tone. He had had enough of this, the pain was getting to him as he realized what his circumstance was. 

“I love yew…” That’s all that he could muster.

Murdoc understood. Someone felt his pain. 

 

*** 

 

They sleep with the terrible thoughts lingering over their heads that night. 2D. anxiety ridden. And Murdoc. Copping with the already tortured soul within. Sleeping together didn’t help. Sleeping together only reminded them that love really can’t conquer all. Hell is better than heaven. Hell is where Murdoc will be. Heaven is a boor without him. Why does anyone want to go to heaven anyway? All the cool people are in hell.

They woke up the next morning, arms wrapped around one another as Murdoc whispered sweet nothings into his ear, until 2D decided to ask questions.

“Wut is ‘ell like?”

“Well…a lot of people are their…Satan has been pretty chill honestly, you may get eaten every once in a while…they eat a lot of candy too. It is their currency. More people are in hell than you think, luv.” 2D sniffled. Hell didn’t seem too bad.

“Wut yew dew there Muds?” Murdoc tightened his grip.

“Either they lock you in a cage, or something with telemarketing. But whatever, you only have to remember one thing.”  
“Wut?”

“That you are pure. You are too good for heaven and hell. You are too good for me.” 2D smiles sadly as he traces his finger on the outline of Murdoc chest. 

“’Ow could I be bad enough den? If I’m too gewd for anything, than what am I?” 

“Mine. You are mine.” Murdoc places both of his hands on 2D’s head and brings them down to his level. He gently places his soft lips on the top of his head, making 2D feel giddy. 

“I will beat the shit out of anything, or anyone that tries to touch you. I would die for you Stuart.”

“I would dew the same for yew too Muds.” 

“You want to sleep in?”

“Yes please.”

 

*** 

 

Nothing changed. Murdoc would come in at his usual time, sit down, eat, and go to bed…well except for the squishy, lanky, nearsighted 2D at his side. 2D did the cooking, the cleaning, and keep the overall morality of the house at a somewhat good tone. They were touchy for sure, but not as much as the one night that turned out to be more of another therapy session. The day of reconing was coming upon them, and it was time to indulge in some good old fashioned sinful sodomizing activities. It was way past time to do something about the sexual tension. If they were going to hell, best do it in style. Or so he thought. 

 

*** 

 

It was days before the ‘boss reaper’ would come. Anxiety filled the house at an all-time high as Murdoc went about his day. They quickly forgot about the many tomes on the shelves and pamper themselves in the interesting lives of one another. Sharing experiences are enjoyable, but being in one is a whole different criteria. 

“So I was there, getting’ ready ta leave the party, when my friend came from the corner! I fout he left! But I just, blah, blah, blah.” His voice began to drown. Murdoc had other things on his mind. Better things that he would much rather not talk about. Dirty and pleasurable things. Being the tired man he was, he grabs 2D sluggishly, pulling him closer as he continues to talk about God who knows what. 

“And guess wut he said ta me! He said I should get my act tagetha! I told em ta fuck off.” Murdoc nods, wedging his head into the crook of 2D’s neck. The damned man was still unaware.

“I just can’t get ova it! I wish I could ‘urt ‘im! Filthy bastard.” 2D cuts his story off, and Murdoc rubs his slightly stubbly chin against 2D’s smooth porcelain like neck, making the other let out a screech of uncertainty. 

“WUT YEW DOIN’ MUDS! DAT FELT WEIRD!” No answer.

“Yew tired Muds?” Sweet Lord. His voice was adorable cute when he was worried.

“Muds, wut yew doin’? W-why are yew doin’ dat! Ah-“ Murdoc muffles his crying. He knew how to get his way. He was going to do this his way. 72 hours remained. And all because 2D wanted to feel good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the updates are getting slow luv! I tried to get this done last week, but things came up. (I am not procrastinating, it is just that people need me!) I need to edit this, I just want to get it out here for you guys! I love you all and I hope you had a swell Halloween! :)  
> P.S. If you enjoy this, and really love it, I would not recommend reading the next chapter that will come out soon. I am trying to save you.   
> Don't take foreshadowing lightly my lovelies~


	6. He is to not be touched

“I’m trying to get your attention.” Murdoc’s voice was heavy, and sounded content and buoyant. His unshaven face scraped against 2D’s subtitle exterior painstakingly slow. The past few days were full of unexpressed emotions and views, making him yearn for more. 2D was over the edge.

“Can we just fuck already?” Murdoc stops. 

“Turn around, and face me.” Stuart quickly turns around on his butt to face the darker man. The bags under Murdoc’s eyes were darker than usual. He clasps his hands together, and looks down at the floor, trying hard to not smile. 

The scratchy beard could now be felt around his cheeks as the room began to get warmer. Legs wrapped around his waist, consuming him completely. His undivided attention was now center towards Murdoc. Statements that had to be said were irrelevant now. Nothing was as significant as the now. Touching was a language on its own.

The reapers lips softly meet with the ones of Stuart. There was no need or feeling to push forward hastily, as they kissed nonchalantly. 2D’s arms twist around the back of his reaper, pulling him into the affectionate kiss. Murdoc’s calloused hands and long finger nails tease at his hair, pulling it out of his face. The reaper bit his top lip carefully, dragging his teeth along the pink flesh. 

Stuart suddenly pulled back to look at his significant other with a tired, lovely gaze. Fiery passion could be seen within him, a vigor to last throughout the night. Murdoc breaks the ice.

“Let’s take this somewhere more flexible luv.” He tightly grabs 2D’s hand, dragging the dazed man into the bedroom. The darkness helped with blocking out the surroundings, making 2D’s senses of sight useless. He was pushed onto the bed quickly, his mouth being intruded by a warm, wet tongue. He felt his dick being cupped by lively hands, and his arms being guided to the top frame of the bed.

Everything began to close in on him. It all happened so fast, that he could barely recall that the event had even happened. He pants were torn from his legs, as well as his other articles of clothing. Murdoc’s finger nails scrapped against his skin, leaving long, red streaks as he worked his way down his body. A mew of approval came from 2D as he felt his something rub against his member. The reaper lets out a deep growl as he takes in the figure of the other. He was all his, unveiled and prepossessing. 

Murdoc leers as he presses his chapped lips against 2D’s, his hand still caressing 2D’s hard cock. Then 2D felt a sudden, sharp pain. 

“What the hell is that?” Murdoc hushes his cries, caressing his hair to sooth the pain. The pain grew stronger under an indescribable sensation overwhelmed him. His moans grew more vocal and erotic until the fulling feeling left him. 2D began to mindlessly beg for relief, losing all self-respect and dignity.

Without warning, the reaper shoved his firm member inside 2D’s stretched hole, screaming out as it tightened. He held him close as he trusted in and out to the rhythm of 2D’s constant carping. The bed was shaking, and all prior thought of death and life diminished into the air, replaced with the spicy sweat of love making. Troubled thoughts and worries melted away with the regularity trance of unadulterated sex. Murdoc’s eyes roll into the back of his head, giving into the control of the orgasm.2D was unresponsive, his mouth ajar. He was smiling.

 

*** 

 

They laid in bed, silent with tremor, like a spell. Nothing could ruin a moment like this, 2D thought.

“We are gonna die in a few hours.” 

“Mmmh.”

“I’m gonna have a surprise for you when I get home tomorrow, think of it as a going away gift.” 2D snuggled closer to Murdoc, reaching out for his hand.

“Why can’t I have it right now?”

“Because it’s going to be a surprise.” 2D was too tired take his serious tone too seriously. What could it be, he thought. Maybe it was a cake, or even a puppy. His thoughts drifted to and fro as he fell asleep, and was unaware that the reaper was crying. 

“I’m not sorry. I am one selfish bastard. Some people never change.”

 

*** 

 

2D would define his mood as melancholy, but he knew why he was sad. Sometimes not thinking about the reason why you are sad can make one procrastinate. He was not the only procrastinator in the house, Murdoc would put off important reaping activities until last minute. Murdoc.

Knowing the reaper. Touching the reaper. Getting fucked by the reaper. Not many can say that. 2D felt a surge of energy run through his blood as the door opened. Murdoc put down his scythe, smiling. Murdoc never smiled after work. 

“Mur’doc! How was work today?” Something wasn’t right.

“Enough about me. Close your eyes, I got your gift!” Something was wrong. 2D did as he was told, trying to smile despite a deep sinking feeling in his stomach. 

“When you wake up, you won’t remember me.” What did Murdoc mean by that? Murdoc hugged him from behind, in an affectionate and reduced way. It was limp. 

He felt a small kiss on the nape of his neck, before something cold and quick dragged across his neck, as if a necklace or sort. Something warm began running down his body. Murdoc was still hugging him. The room began to get dark. It was darker than the room that they had made sweet love. All was fine.

 

2D was special. He knew that. He should have know. All dead people are cold.

 

2D was warm. 

 

*** 

 

He set his body down in a loving manner. He knew that something wasn’t right. 2D was alive. He was living, but miserable. Everything that had happened, was not to happen. It was a mistake. 2D was not ready to die. He was not ready to die. 

The reaper walked into the kitchen, finding the fixing for a sandwich, this time, everything was fresh. As he slathered the bread with the condiments, he found himself reminiscing on past adventures. He was finally able to live, and now he was going to die. 

It was a harsh memories. His father took him outside. It had been a good day overall, and it was one of the few days that his father did not hurt him. They walked out to the tall tree, where a small kitten was curled up. Nothing could disturb such peace. 

“Son. I want you to kill this cat.” He handed Murdoc a hatchet. 

“B-but…it hasn’t done anything!” He grips the hatchet. He wanted to use the hatchet, but not on the kitten. 

“If you don’t kill this fucking cat I won’t feed you for a week and I’ll burn everything in your room!” This was unfair. There was no purpose to this. Why inflict pain on other, when you can love them.

“SWING THE FUCKING THING, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” His father began to scream more. 

He swung the hatchet, blood splattered across the grass, followed laughter. He fell to his knees as his father slapped his back. He never knew why his father did this. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He destroyed things. He was never meant to create anything. 

It was time to let it go. He was happier without him. 

 

*** 

 

The white walls were painful to stare at. His back was hurting. The room smelled like piss. His body was in a cast. He parents were crying. He was hungry. A doctor had entered the room, and explained that the wreck had broken most of his bones, putting him into a two month long comma. It would take years of healing to recover. Years. Something that only took a second to happen would cost him years of his life. 

And he lived. 

Mr. Stuart lived the rest of his life as many humans do. He maintained a job, saving up for retirement. He had girlfriends. No children. He remembered nothing form those days. He now sits in his small home, enjoying the life of no work. His tired body would only let him do so much, and sitting in front of his entertainment device. He could enjoy a sandwich or two at time, but he was ready for something.

 

 

He was ready to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERYTHING WILL BE RESOLVED THE NEXT CHAPTER. I AM SORRY TO END IT LIKE THIS. NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP SOON. COMPUTER CRASHED. EVERYTHING WAS LOST. 
> 
> I love you guys. I am sorry. I DO NOT CONSIDER THIS A MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. 
> 
> Everything will be fixed by January. I promise. :) NEED EDIT (Don't be alarmed if this chapter is removed, or edited to hell and back.)


	7. Maneater

He should have known better than to think that everything that had happened was an accident. 

It was the day after he let his precious one go. He remembers sitting at the table, unemotional with nothing to give reaction to. If 2D was there he would have reason to smile or frown. Now that he had ‘returned’ him to his ‘loving’ family he had to suffer. 2D wouldn’t want him to cry; it was better this way. He was left with the memories. 

It was an experience that left him with less than he had entered in with. Time ran out. If it were up to him to make fate, 2D would be his for the next thousand years to come; there would never be a dull moment. Let love live.

The soul had vanished, leaving behind a useless shell of nothingness. He can remember the few things that he had read about in one of the books on the empty and useless shelfs. ‘Funeral & Burial Rituals for the Living.’ He snickers. As if anyone dead would need to know such. The ‘for the Living’ part was more of a last ‘Fuck you.’ 

Wrapping the cold body in a black sheet, he senselessly carried him out to the outside. Dark red sand could be seen beyond the confines of the area. It was stuffy. The outside smelled like an old forgotten bar that one would find on the outskirts of a ghetto.

Burying that body was the hardest thing he had done in all of his life.

 

As he finished covering it up, he sat down on the mound of sand, looking at the bleak sky.

“We had a good ride, eh?” He wipes away the few tears that came rolling down his cheek. He pats the pile of dark sand as he looks ahead.

“I hate you Stuart. I hate you so fucking much. You made me real.” Sitting up, he quickly trots away, leaving behind an ample amount of unsettling emotions. He mumbles to himself. 

“…I just wish we…why…I could have made you happy…why is this so hard.” The mumbles began to turn into whimpers, then into full cries. 

 

***

 

While he was engraving mindless marks into the black coffee table with his steak knife, a meek and quiet knock made him jump from his seat. He cursed under his breath. Maybe death would lay his bitch off final. He was in no way happy about his situation. Maybe it was all a dream and he would wake up soon. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Murdoc sluggishly opens the door half-hoping that it was 2D, even though there was no possibility it was him. He was in denial. 

Again.

He looks down, only to see the usual stack of papers in hein sight. Nothing was to happen. Nothing was to change. 

Falling to his knees, he clutches the papers with contempt. 

“I do something r-remotely kind, and this is how you treat me?! I can stand this dump any longer! Take me to Hell and let Satan fuck me in the arse for all I care!” The papers scatter across the porch, giving light to the dark house. 

“I don’t want to live anymore! You hear me dipshit! FUCK YOU! “His swearing was cut short as his face was covered in one of the many sheets of paper that were blowing in the cool wind. Growling, he grabs it, his knuckles already pale from the intense grip. 

Date: Monday. 12:27 p.m. July 18th. 

Cause of Death: Heart Failure. 

Client: Stuart Pot.

Destination: -

Murdoc looks in the direction of the kitchen. He had still not cleaned up what Stuart was finishing up yesterday. He was most likely never going to clean it up. It was a reminder. Maybe there was some hope.

“Alright shitheads. I’ll keep at this game, but in return, all I ask for is Stuart.” He was never going to stop talking to himself. It was an old habit that he would never be able to break. 

 

***

 

The sky was deathly, as if Leonard himself has painted such. The purple gray clouds gave off an aurora of concentrated sleepiness that was so immense that it could be seen from miles away. Such days would make one want to curl up and sleep. For others it would be the perfect chance to finally rid of what life they had left, leaving the reaper to drag his already aching body to the sight of a fresh corpse once again. 

Heart failure.

Fatal to Sever panic induced coma.

‘Natural Causes.’

Kidney and lung cancer.

Skin disorder.

He has seen it all. He has done it all. 

Life can be as unstable as you make it. Everything happens on the account of what you do. Being careful and living on the edge are two separate beings, and they love each other very much. They try to convince one another to do what they think is right, and this is what makes them work. We are all different. If we were not, then what type of mentality are we as individuals supposed to develop? 

***  
Everyday dragged by. Slowly. Maybe too slow. Nothing mattered as he felt his hair grow. And cut-cut-cut it would go every-so often. He found himself talking to the wall most nights in a state of weary dreary and uncanny feelings. 

Could it just end now? What was the purpose of waiting for eradication? 

Oh. Right. 

Stuart. 

That guy. 

Him…

Mez amigo. Mez aime. Mez tomogatchi. 

Fuck.

The seconds would go by like hours, and the Nano-seconds would go by like days. The waiting was like having your favorite record broken in the hands of an enemy. Then they take the pieces and insert them into your rectum, like so. 

What was Stuart doing? Is he married yet? Is she hot? Is it a she? Is he hot? 

He felt himself growing green with envy as the endless possibilities came flowing through his brain. He began to feel dizzy.  
That was his Stuart. And he was not to be touched by ANYONE else. 

*** 

 

“Ah yes, I remember as an old’ chap, I had visions.”

“Yes Mr. Pot.”

“That’s Mr. Stuart to you young lady! Furthermore, I would really like my jello about now. Make it green too.” Stuart nags his comfort care worker. She was as sweet as a button most would say, but when it came to Mr. Stu, she was sweeter than two bags of sugar. 

“Why yes Mr. Stuart! How could one forget?” She began to pull out a food tray.  
“Ah. But yes! Visions. I remember I wrote them down. My pop said it was cause of the wreck, because that’s when they began! But it felt like an experience, it really did ya know.”

“Yes Mr. Stu. The reaper. You told me before your nap today.” Stuart jolts up.

“Why you little ragamuffin! I told you nothing! Now listen. I remember that I was taken to live in the house of the grim reaper. He was…” Stu drifts into thought. Even in his old age and deliria, he could still manage to get a red face.

“He was like that one guy from Stray Cats. Leather jacket, punk attitude, and a smile to make ya swoon over anything he would touch. Not to mention his Keith cut. Now there is a man with style!”

As Stuart went on about his incredibly insane fantasies of the so-called ‘reaper’, his comfort care worker went to fetch his evening meal. Even if she didn’t listen, Stuart liked to hear himself; the reaper was real. 

If god were real, then his dashing reaper in black would come to his aid soon to take him from the wrath of green jello Sunday and banana pudding Thursday. There is only so much one can take of a certain substance every week, and honestly, he was in the mood for a sandwich.

***

“Short lives, seem so romantic.”

His thoughts drift back and forth as he waits outside a dingy hospital room. Was the wait really worth it? 

‘Send me to the bloody funeral home rather than this awful place.’ He contemplates.

“Short lives, I just can’t stand it.”

12:25. His anxiety starts to heighten.

12:26. He feels his chest start to tighten.

12:27. it was now. 

“Short lives, its curtains for you good-bye.” He grins. Such songs would come to mind. Old’ Johnny boy. His haircut.

A fitting song for the moment. 

He kicks the door open. There he is. Old and frail. Miserable and dead. 

The reaper gently leans down, getting close to the body of his lover that he had so long longed for. 

“Let us go luv. I got a nice long story and pot of rice and gravy waiting for us back at la casa de Niccals.” Taking a closer look at the body, Murdoc couldn’t help but notice how much his Stu had changed in the span of his lifetime.

His eyes were dilated and his skin was saggy. 

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. This isn’t his Stuart. This is an old man that is holding him captive. His Stuart would have jumped up and smothered him in kisses by now. Or at least he liked to think that. 

‘Don’t think too positively yet Muds.’ He sighs as a bead of sweat runs across his greasy skin.

He was unresponsive. 

Maybe he was supposed to kiss him, like they do in the fairy tales. 

He looks to his left and right; no one in sight. He breaths in. Then out. Yes. He was here for his taking. His Stuart.  
He leans in close, leaving a small ‘choo’ on his cheek. 

Nothing. 

Maybe he was supposed to kiss harder.

With his right hand, he grabs Stuart by the jaw, aggressively smacking his wet lips onto his. This may not have been the brightest of ideas that he had had, as he quickly found this to be like a limp noodle in a wet caver.

“Hey. Where am I?” Murdoc’s eyes widen. No. Stuart wasn’t talking. He would have felt that.

“Am I dead?” Gently putting down the corpse of his lover that he had just finished French kissing, he looks toward the grimy window. They probably needed some bleach for that. 

“Can you help me?” Sitting in the window, knees in chest was the beautiful, all-mighty, and ridiculously handsome man that he has lusted over since their last encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for being this late. 
> 
> Regardless, here is some unnecessary story.
> 
> I have a creative writing class. There are only two others in it. Both guys. 
> 
> I feel head-over-heels in love with one of them, and my god, that could be a story on its own. So, I have been going beyond my boundaries of an introvert, and pulled off the usual, 'Valentines candy', 'Cute notes' and 'here's my number.' I had to put guitar, bass, and even writing away in order to plot my next move. 
> 
> To cut the crap, we ended up going to the movies, then prom! And as Meta_Ren does, I ended up three cities away from where I needed to be, my date and I lost on the highway at eleven o'clock. Hahaha...
> 
> They day I meet someone who could out-meme me, is the day that my priorities went wack. I've enjoyed writing, but my silly young emotions are over ruleing my productivity. And for me, I'm okay with it...I just feel...happier now. Writing helped fill the emotionless void that I had at once created for myself. I created stories, now I want to experience them.
> 
> BACK ONTO THIS- This story will be finished, along with the others! Summer is coming! And that means more time! I love you all so much, and thank you for your sweet and wonderful comments :) Have an amazing day!


	8. All We Know

His life could finally be complete he thought. His beautiful stick like appendages wrapped around his small legs like a China doll in a venders shop. His tears of unbridled fear only added to his character as they rolled down his rosy cheeks in a manner that could be compared to a studio Ghibli movie. His blue hair hung in his striking black eyes that could barely be seen because of the matted mess.

Angels could be heard from miles away as Murdoc set his orbs on the frail blue haired god. The dim sunlight from the moldy window added an unnecessary glint to Stuarts already tear stained face. 

“Stuart…?” Murdoc slowly took a step towards the frightened man, his heels clanking on the floor as he does so. The sound echoes through the room, making Stuart flinch in trepidation. 

Murdoc’s face turns to stone as the love of his life looks up. His puppy like expression of dejection broke his jet black heart into pieces. They stood in silence, except for the occasional sniffling from Stuart, their eyes stilled locked in battle.

“W’ere am I…I-I who are yew sir?”

Everything hit him immediately. 

Purgatory. The stories. Cooking. Sinning, Death. 

He was death. 

Death is life’s greatest reward. 

Stuart was life. Well…Stuart was his life at least.

Taking another step towards him, he felt as if the angles were now playing their trumpets. Stuart didn’t move an inch, but instead keep his eyes on the eye candy in front of him. 

 

Murdoc smirked, but it wasn’t the usual smirk. This kind of smirk was reserved for only the finest of people. Not showing a single one of his yellow teeth. He felt his eyes begin to sting as he opened his arms, still walking closer to the trembling man. 

He took him into his arms, tears and all. His soft blue hair was the same as it used to be; nothing could amount. 

Stuart was his Cleopatra. Stuart was his Bonnie. Stuart was his everything. Stuart was the tragic lover that he didn’t know he wanted. But as soon as he understood, it was all taken away from him. His action. His consequences. 

As he hugged him, Stuart produced the cutest noises, as if he was coming to his senses. As Murdoc combed his long digits through his hair, he could feel the suppressed memories flood his head all at once.   
He was whole once again.

“A-Am I dead…?”

“Yes luv.”

“Oh.” Murdoc could feel weak hands wrap around his back.

“Are yew an angel?” The room quickly feel silent. Stuart could have been serious, right?   
Murdoc’s face fell with an indifferent emotion. Something wasn’t right.

“Stuart? Don’t you know who I am? It’s me! You’re one and only, Murdic Niccalsssss.” He unknowingly exagereated the ‘s’ once more. Stuart had no reaction. His face was stiff as a brick. 

“Uh…Remember that time you burnt the hell outta those flapjacks! Memories, am I right?” Stuart still say in the window, a finger on his cheek. 

“No.” He had to be playing with him.

“Oh! Or what about when you would sit in the circle in purgatory and I would tell you bedy-wed stories?” Murdoc folded his hands and closed his eyes, only to open them to find a surprise. 

Stuart’s head was turned; something outside had caught his attention. Murdoc crooked his head in anger to see what was destracting his long awaited reunion. 

Outside in the open field was a light unlike any other. Unmistakenable. The rays were perfectly angled. Something wasn’t right.

Stuart’s face lit up quickly as he walked through the wall of the comfort care home. Murdoc could have swore he heard giggling coming about.

“Stuart! Where the bloody-hell are ypu going mate? Come back you blue-haired freak!” Murdoc angerly swung his sythe through the wall to follow his late lover. 

He found himself running. Running in an everlasting fear. 

They had a deal. 

Stuart couldn’t leave.

Stuart was his to make happy.

As he ran, the light around him got brighter, and he felt an undescribable sensation of pleasure and happiness. 

He was covering his eyes by the time he found Stuart. 

There he was. His hair glittering in the light and a smile to make a person think about for days. 

There he was, ready to climb the white pearly stairs to heaven. 

Murdoc crawled to the man. Stuart was waiting for something. 

As Murdoc picked up his head to look at his lovely once more, he felt his entire body being picked up by strong hands.

Followed by a kiss on the cheek. 

A warmth spread across his face as he let out a squeal of satisfaction. It was his Stuart.

“Muds. I love you.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear from you luv.” There was no use in hiding his tears, as he dug his fists into his eye sockets. 

“Why are you leaving me Stu? W-why now?” His entire body was shaking, not even Stuart’s steady hands could stop him from shaking. 

“I never said I was leaving yew Muds. Be patient. Trust me.” Then a warm breath could be felt on his lips as quickly as it was gone. A quick kiss good-bye, and Murdoc was left on the ground with the unwordly sight of Stuart progressively climbing the stairs as happy as can be. 

He felt betrayed in every sense of the word. 

He had never wanted to die more than that moment of his life.

 

*** 

Murdoc went about the next few weeks in silence. Everything that reminded him of Start was now pushed in the back of his head once more, so he could focus on his…’work.’

Yes. He was angry at God. 

No. There was nothing he could do about it.

If he kept up the ‘good-boy’ act for a little bit longer, maybe something nice could happen…maybe. He never wanted to be too confident. 

He now sat at the table, slumped over looking at his one of many pornographic magazines. He couldn’t wack off, but it sure did enough justice to look at a naked man every once in a while. 

As he was indulging himself in his activities, he heard a faint nock on the door. It was that time of the month again. 

Taking his time, Murdoc pain-stakingly arose from his seat. Making his way through the hall, the room felt colder than usual. 

Opening the door to see papers before him didn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

“I don’t know what I expected ol’ Luci. Maybe you could give ya old pal a break for once, or better yet could you give me something worthwhile. Something to make a man real happy like.”

Murdoc looked left and right. Nothing.

He shuts the door with the stack of papers in hand. 

Setting them aside, he picks up his porno magazine and walks into the living room, only to drop not only the item in hand, but his jaw. 

“S-Stu?” 

His eyes couldn’t be right. If they were, Stuart was sitting next to the chair wearing the black apron that he had sewn many years prior. 

“Yew gonna read me a story Muds?” 

“B-BUT! You shouldn’t be here! You don’t belong here! Go back to the cloudy hell you deserve to go to!” Murdoc feel to his knees in utter contempt. 

“I’m hurt Muds. After all the letters I wrote to you. Everyday Muds. I wrote a letter. Don’t think I forgot.” Murdoc turns his head to the stack of papers he had just brought in.   
Stuart saunters over to the pile, picking the first one from the pile, reading it outload to the groveling man. 

“I miss you Muds. I miss the deep growling voice that would read tragic love stories. I miss the black house and sheets that we once sleep in. And I expecially miss the way you would hold me. Oh Muds. If only you knew. If only I knew how much I would savor those moments. If only we both knew. I yern for you, and only you.” 

Stuart puts the paper back into the pile. Murdoc begins to laugh. 

“I always knew you were good with words!” Stuart frowned.

“Muds. I need to tell you something…” His ears perked up quickly.

“Go on luv.”

“I love yew. I hope yew know that.” 

“Just tell me already!”

Stuart bit his bottom lip and impulsively brought Murdoc into a hug from behind, kissing his neck a few times as he does so.

“Muds. This is my heaven. Yew are my everything. I traded it all to be with yew.”

Murdoc knew that it was his Stuart. Only Stuart would do something so mushy and dumb and self-centered, and down-right sweet like that.

“I love you too mate.”

And together they stayed. The reaper and his partner. Uninviting and grim from the start, but quickly they found more in common than expected. 

They were more than partners. They were two souls looking for their better half. Two souls that needed another that understood what pain is. 

Destined to be together, now and forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wraps up this story! 
> 
> Thank you all for your nice comments and patience throughout this journey! I hope that you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it! 
> 
> I hope that everyone can sleep now with a proper ending! I know there are many 2Doc stories out there, but I hope this one made the list of, 'Not too bad.' 
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day, and remember to keep being the wonderful person you are. :) <3


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